


Till The Clock Struck On The Twelve

by Thoughts Like A Minefield (Incog_Ninja)



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [14]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Purple Prose, Women Loving Women, male gaze forbidden
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-20 15:39:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Incog_Ninja/pseuds/Thoughts%20Like%20A%20Minefield
Summary: Jo and Ruby hit the town. Ruby dons a necktie and insists on being called Daddy for the night.
Relationships: Jo Harvelle/Ruby
Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2019 [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1251005
Kudos: 5
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo





	Till The Clock Struck On The Twelve

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thecarlysutra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/gifts).

> @spnkinkbingo prompt: Daddy Kink

“Dessert, Jo-Jo?” Black, glossy lips curl into a smile as matching blunt-tipped fingers draw circles on the back of her companion’s hand.

The server looks between the women tucked into a corner booth. They’re both striking in their own way – one dark and one light, one sharp and one soft. There’s something else there, though, that he can’t quite put a finger on. Something heavy and purposeful and illicit.

“Tiramisu,” answers the blonde.

Her skin shimmers in the candlelight, full-spectrum dancing on the table and walls surrounding them. Glitter, silver and gold and purple and pink, caresses her ivory skin and kisses her pinked lips. The brunette, dressed in a sleek, tailored men’s suit and tie, is just as sparkling with swipes of blood and onyx glimmer above each high cheekbone.

The server nods at the order and checks their glasses. “More Bordeaux, ladies?”

He’s taken by them. They’re almost cliched, like an angel and a devil in a porn flick, but something tells him neither of them is here for _his_ gaze.

The darker of the two slowly glances at her counterpart with an arched brow.

“Why not?” the blonde shrugs.

“Jo-Jo?” the devil’s tone edges and the angel bristles.

Lavender sprinkled eyelashes flutter and her breath catches and shakes. If he didn’t know better, he’d think the simple shift in tone was turning this girl on.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispers, and he is instantly stunned, instantly feels intrusive, instantly heated under his collar.

No, this is not for him.

“Very good,” he croaks and clears his throat and what’s left of their used plates and silverware before turning on his heel and darting to the kitchen.

He doesn’t say a word as he watches, discreetly hidden in the wait station – watches the brunette move in like a black widow, slow and intent on its prey, before pulling the shimmering light into her dark for a kiss to set fire to the world.


End file.
